Oh the winter post-Christmas blues have hit hard, write about summer. Oh glorious heat that makes you sweat and hide in the air-conditioning.

It was uncomfortably hot like most Augusts in Chicago; we bought fresh lemonade from the overpriced vendor outside the museum, and we both commented on how concentrate wasn’t really fresh, and how this tourist spot's lemonade was a fraud. It was sugar water masked with a squeeze of juice.